Decision Making Skills
by Whitewash
Summary: The choice may have been difficult, but Yaya was sick of waiting for an answer. She could hold herself back with no problem; it was Hikari she was worried about.


"Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"W...what?"

She sighed, shifting her legs underneath her. They were bare and the weather was a little chilly; the dorms had a tendency to get cold when it was windy. The old windows in every room could hardly be considered insulation. "It's a simple 'yes' or 'no.' I'm around you every day, right?"

Hikari pulled her bedsheets closer around her, protectively or...not. "I don't..."

Yaya groaned. "So it's not as if you're bothered when I tackle you or anything." She twisted a lock of dark hair around her finger. Every minute of this conversation sapped a little more out of her.

Hikari looked troubled. "You're around me every day. We're always together."

"Does it bother you, though?"

Yaya had tried to make it simple. Gave her a decision. "Yes" or "no." And still she was conflicted. She wouldn't hurt anyone. Not really. And it only mattered if she cared about Yaya's own feelings—if she misread them...if she was right... Any way it went, it was a lose-lose situation. Someone had to get hurt. Yaya didn't mind being a martyr if it meant Hikari cheered up already.

She had Amane, after all. Yaya should've considered herself defeated. She did. Maybe asking Hikari had been a little unfair to her. Either way, something...was definitely up...

"Yes."

There. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"No, it was," said Hikari. "I..." she looked away, "I..."

"You what?" asked Yaya.

If Hikari might've been able to stand up all on her own, without the need to cling—to anyone, even—if she was just a little more independent...

It came out in a shudder, maybe a sob; Yaya couldn't tell. "I don't know."

If she was just a little more independent, then this wouldn't be so hard.

"You're not happy?" Yaya ventured.

"No. I'm not. I'm...not." Hikari inhaled, exhaled, and hiccuped. "I don't know. I can't tell what's wrong with me anymore. I'm just...not..."

"You're not happy." Yaya sprawled against her sheets. "Huh."

She was afraid of touching Hikari; the girl might just crumble, shrink, fall apart in her arms. She couldn't help herself, huh...not as if restraint helped. Or if it made matters worse. It was difficult to tell, as if...there wasn't enough communication between them.

What was Hikari thinking? Was it really that difficult to guess? "I don't like Amane, I don't like Yaya, I don't like Kaname...none of them at all. But I tried for you, at least, and I got you, at least, so maybe I should be happy that I have something now. Even if I'm not strong enough to take care of myself... Even if I can't do anything after all."

"It's hopeless," Yaya said aloud, and when she turned her head, she saw Hikari sobbing into her sheets. Yaya looked down at herself, feeling guilty.

"What do you want, then?" she finally asked, looking up at the ceiling.

Hikari ignored her.

"Hey... I asked you a question."

Hikari dropped her sheets and stared at her, glossy-eyed, red-faced and miserable. Yaya felt an unmistakable wave of guilt wash over her, coupled with the bare pain of just seeing Hikari. It ached. She was afraid of herself—they both were.

"You look like you need a hug."

Hikari shook her head.

Yaya managed some kind of smile—wry and bent out of shape—but it was better than nothing. "No?"

Hikari shook her head again.

The smile flipped into a frown, still wry, and still bent out of shape. Yaya was middling the two emotions, but they were both ironic. She couldn't win. "It's not fair," she said. "A few weeks ago I would've ignored all of that."

She wondered why she was holding back now. Not really.

Hikari sank her face into her pillow.

Why was she holding back now? It wasn't...even...

Yaya sighed. She was sure Hikari could hear her movements on the bed; the sheets shifted underneath her as she slid off and stood up. She walked across to Hikari's bed and sat by her, patting her head. Yaya looked away, all of a sudden sheepish. "Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"No." It sounded like a "no," at least, but her voice was muffled.

"I wonder why you're saying that now."

From under the sheets, Hikari took her hand and intertwined their fingers. "I guess it's a little unfair, isn't it?"

Yaya grasped her hand. "Of course it is."

* * *

They fell asleep sometime afterward, until Yaya woke up in the middle of the night. She felt sore.

"When did...?" She glanced at Hikari's sleeping form and their interlocked fingers. She grasped her head and groaned. "Right..." Then she stood up, and tried to get to her bed. Hikari's grip tightened on her hand.

Even when she was asleep...

"You can do that tomorrow, Hikari," Yaya said quietly. "We live in the same dorm." She tugged at her arm. It didn't give. "Hikari..."

If she wrung her arm, she might wake Hikari up; the girl was a frighteningly light sleeper. Maybe it was better if she just...

Yaya walked back and sat on the bed. Her back ached.

She gave into temptation and lay on top of Hikari—vertical to Hikari's horizontal, back to her side—sheets separating clothing and one hand still clenching the other. It was hardly a better alternative. Hikari curled around her body, and Yaya felt knees nudging her elbow and elbows nudging her ribs. She felt miserable, conflicted, and just about ready to molest Hikari in her sleep.

She was above that, though. Thoughts sailed through her mind.

Tonight would be a long night.

* * *

Morning came. Hikari felt something heavy on top of her, and one of her arms had slipped out of the covers. Yaya. She had stayed. And of course had to be...

Hikari gasped and nearly screamed, stumbling back to the bedpost in an attempt to make herself as small as possible. "Y..."

Yaya groaned and rubbed her eyes. "That was horrible. When did I fall asleep again...?"

"You...!"

Yaya stared at her, and then at her hand, and slipped her hand out of Hikari's. She swung her legs up and sat cross-legged, facing her with a wry smile. "I didn't want to wake you up."

Hikari gaped. "You..."

"All right, all right, I'm a pervert and a bully," Yaya groaned. "I had a bad excuse for sleeping on top of you, I made you cry, and I'm forcing you to make a decision you obviously don't want to. I get it if you hate me. You have nothing to feel bad about."

"I don't want you to blame yourself," said Hikari, rubbing the somewhat stiff hand that she had grasped Yaya's with.

"Oh," Yaya said with a twisted grin, "that means I can place the blame on you then?"

"Yes!" Hikari slammed her hands on the sheets. "Please do!"

Yaya frowned. "I don't want to do that. Eh..." She looked away, "though..."

"Isn't there anything we can do?"

"Pick, for one. Or...don't pick at all," Yaya said with shrug.

"But you'd care either way."

"Forget about me."

"I can't! I should be able...but..." Hikari shook her head. "I don't want to... I can't just shrug you off like that."

"Then what are you going to do?" Yaya's voice grew soft... It was back to that tone again, curious, and maybe even a little seductive...or...more than a little. Maybe very seductive.

What was she going to do?

Their relationship was...unhealthy like this, and something undoubtedly composed it, but she didn't understand the feeling—and she was already with someone, someone she found attractive, someone she found that was just like her. And...

Hikari found herself pressed against her bed, Yaya's hands on her shoulders. All over again. No kissing. No touching. Not really. Just a sort of struggle that Hikari never gave into, not into her, because...

Because she didn't give into her, either. Never. Not once. It was kind of scary, because then they would wait, and stare at each other, and nothing would happen. Because Hikari would smile—shyly—and Yaya would let go before anything else happened. No almost-kisses. Nothing like that. They didn't act like that. They weren't.

Did they want to, though?

Time was always slow...so slow... This... It always lasted too long, and not long enough. She wanted it to last—hinging on that second option, not knowing if it would ever happen—forever. Forever and forever and forever.

Yaya was smiling at her, twisted and wry, as always, and was about to get off of her when Hikari grabbed her wrists, hands hovering over her shoulders.

"Hey... What do you think you're doing?"

"Nothing... I just want to stay like this."

"We'll be late for class."

"I don't care."

"No, really," said Yaya, "we'll be late for class."

"I don't care."

"What about Amane?"

"No. Not right now."

"Aren't you being unfaithful to her?"

"She doesn't know."

"But..."

"I don't care."

"Well," Yaya said, "what do you care about, then?"

"Just once."

"Excuse me?" Yaya asked.

Hikari pulled at her wrists. "Just once. Just once, I want to know what it feels like."

"W...what?"

"Do it."

"Do what?"

"Kiss me."

Her eyes were wide—shocked, even. "Are you kidding?" she said, her voice a harsh rasp.

"Am I?" Hikari wasn't sure.

"We'll be late for class," Yaya had told her, and she didn't want to be late. Had they ever been late before? She didn't remember. Her mind sloshed through its thoughts; the world hazed.

Had it always been like this?

Yaya seemed to smirk at her. "Are you all right?"

"No... I'm not."

"But you were kidding, weren't you. That was some kind of weird, awkward joke, right?"

"It...doesn't have to be?"

"It doesn't?"

"N...no..." Hikari said with some confusing effort. This was unfamiliar territory; she didn't recognize this feeling.

Lust...?

Yaya's face sank closer. Their foreheads were touching by now—only their foreheads. "We'll be late for class," she whispered.

"Just once. Never again."

"Never?"

"I don't know..."

"Make up your mind." Her voice was soft, and soothing... No...more than that, it was...

_Daring_.

Yaya was getting impatient. She said it again. "Make up your mind."

"Why...? Can't you?"

"No, I can't, because you don't want to make up yours."

"I said, just once."

"Just once?"

"Once."

"Once?"

"Yes." She barely uttered it; it was a whisper stuck in her throat.

Their lips touched, briefly. As Yaya was about to get up off of her, Hikari dragged her down by her shirt and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. They kissed again, longer, but just a little. Yaya's fingers curled against Hikari's shoulders as she hoisted herself up.

"I thought you said once," she said.

"I know, because we'll never do this again."

Time passed in a whirlwind of thoughts and sensations—Yaya pressed herself up against Hikari closer than they had ever been; Hikari sucked in breaths between clumsy, desperate kisses. The world exploded in a thousand different directions; it wouldn't stop, couldn't stop, she wouldn't let it, no, not if this was only the first time, not even if it was the last time, even if she had to tell her, "Only once," it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair. Her breaths were shallow but she pulled Yaya closer still, and she responded by closing the space between them, closer, closer, closer, until she felt like they were fused together and even then that wasn't enough, because they were still kissing each other, somehow, and even if they missed, somehow, they found each other again, even if they were blind and couldn't see a thing.

Even if they were making a mistake for letting her choose.

Yaya got up. Hikari was panting.

"We'll be late for class," she said again, red-faced and smiling and breathing. "We should..." For some reason, she couldn't find the word.

"Stop?"

Yaya smiled at her. It was a rueful smile. "You said, 'only once.'"

Hikari smiled back. "I know."

* * *

**A/N**: I actually don't like Hikari that much. But I thought it'd be interesting if she actually gave into Yaya during all those touchy-feely moments that she barely reacted to (which was really confusing, because all those times I was wondering how she felt about it, and if she didn't like it, then why didn't she try to push her _off_), so I tried writing it. Apparently she's just as horny as everyone else in the series. Pshh.


End file.
